The League sliced deeper and deeper into the guts of the BioMed Facility. The industrial countenance of their surroundings slowly gave way to something more space-age-y. White insulative padding covered the walls and ceiling. Thick pipes, covered in the same padding and labeled "LHe" snaked through the corridors. Every so often they passed a screen which displayed the temperature of the cryogenic fluid. It flickered rapidly between two and three degrees Kelvin.

They stopped for a much-needed breather after finally reaching the freight elevator. Not that they could have done any more, given how slowly the stupid thing descended.

The green lizard guy – Sochi? Shinji? – flopped on the ground, clutching at his side. Probably cramping. He, for whatever damn fool reason, insisted on following them deeper. Mirko didn't have the energy to care or even protest, but if he wanted to get himself killed then more power to him.

Toga's tongue lolled out of her mouth obscenely as she panted. She'd shed her fatigue jacket, leaving her in boots, grey pants, and a frilly bra.

Kurogiri seemed wholly unphased by the ordeal, given that he could glide over the ground if he wanted to. He didn't really need to run.

Doubled over, Shigaraki wheezed. "Are you kidding me? Doesn't this heap go any faster?"

"Oh, would you just shut the FUCK up and rest?" Mirko's anger was freezing over. "I'm sick of carrying your ass, so we're going to ride this out nice and slow. Get some water or something. Or don't. I'm not your goddamn mother." She turned away sharply.

The elevator was a cavernous affair. Way different than what she had expected. Instead of your bog-standard elevator car in a vertical shaft, it was a wide-open platform, rolling up and down a forty-five-degree slope. You could probably have a pick-up game of football on it without feeling too crowded. That was about where her interest in the differences ended.

Shuichi was far more concerned. He looked up twitchily, towards the mouth of the elevator shaft, muttering something about video games and ambushes.

Mirko ignored that in its entirety and stalked off to the far edge of the platform. The distance wasn't that large, but it was enough for her to pretend that she was alone. There were a handful of roto-molded plastic crates scattered across the platform, one of which she sat heavily upon. Her knees cracked and creaked when they bent. They burned. Her whole body did honestly, but her joints just ached.

The worst of it all was her ears. She closed her eyes and focused, searching outward. There were the rattle-trap heartbeats of her league of misfits. The low hum of machinery working to lower the lift. Underpinning all of that was a persistent and high-pitched whine. Faint but ever present.

Tinnitus.

At sixteen years.

Mirko ripped the cap off an autoinjector and stabbed into each thigh, just above the knee, while blinking back angry tears. It's not fucking fair! The injector, spent, was hurled across the elevator. I don't deserve this. I'm trying, goddamnit! With her elbows on her knees, Mirko pulled her ears down and pinned them between her palms and her cheeks. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Just breathe. The stress is getting to you. You need to be calm. She wanted to reach for Izuku but the fear of what might filter through their bond held her back. He didn't need to be worrying about her, not right now.

The drugs got to work, delaying the exhaustion, and blunting the pain. For another hour, at most. Unoccupied, her mind wandered. The discovery of the secret prison was both troubling and validating. Validating, because she had recognized some of the prisoners. Vaguely. Some of those people, the poor fuckers in straightjackets, had disappeared from Kamino Ward in the last few years. From deep memory, hazy faces sprang out from files she'd leafed through at Hawks' side. The little details were there, and the Commission had made her unable to forget the little details. It was them, alright. The whole reason that she let herself be… seduced into becoming one of the Hero Commission's little gremlins.

The Shingen Corporation was the boogeyman snatching people off the streets. Not Kurogiri. Well, one person in a crowd wasn't enough to make a solid accusation. But… If it looks like shit, smells like shit, tastes like shit, then spit it the fuck out. Mirko didn't feel like following Commission guidelines anymore – and hadn't ever since the whole disownment business – so, accuse she would.

While the hero in her wanted to latch onto these wrongfully imprisoned people, Mirko really couldn't afford to think about it. You just left them. You set them free, then abandoned them after the guards slaughtered half of them. They seemed to rally on their own, and the League had already obliterated security between the prison and the surface, so they had a fair chance of escape and survival.

More alarming than the prisoners were the extremely fucked up Wardens. They had no faces, just… just exposed, smoldering skulls with empty eye sockets. They had to be dead – before the fight that is – because they were sure as shit dead now. Had to be, because they didn't react to pain, or to having their limbs ripped off, or to being crushed, stabbed, or disintegrated. Walking corpses that fought and killed with rabid efficiency. And those screams… distant echoes whispered in her ears, drawing a visceral shiver up her spine. She had barely, barely come out of that fight alive. Mirko was confident that she'd be dead as a doornail if it weren't for 'Giri and Toga. Just… what in the actual fuck was Shingen doing down here?

"Here!"

Mirko stared blankly at the dagger Toga offered. Hilt first, surprisingly. It was quite pretty, all lacquered wood and mother of pearl. And gallons of blood. "I… what?" Confused and wary, she accepted the knife.

Toga clasped her hands behind her back and bounced where she stood. "It's a gift, silly!" She twirled and plopped down on the crate, far too close. "I got it for you just after we met, but… well, y'know, I haven't had the chance to give it to you till now."

Just after… Mirko's stomach turned but she let it go with a rough sigh. Now wasn't the time. Well, when the fuck is the right time? "Thanks…" She turned it idly in her hands. Fighting with weapons wasn't really her thing. Hawks had taught her the basics, but beyond that she had no interest. "You know that I don't really use knives, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, well yeah," Toga's eyes roamed up her legs. "It doesn't have to be a weapon though. They're super useful tools too!" She tilted her head cutely.

Mirko hated how easily Toga could worm under her suspicions, her distrust, and her anger. Regardless, she would have insisted that Toga hang onto the knife for her own sake, but the little magpie was still bristling with knives after giving up the one. Knives and grenades. So many grenades. Smokes, flashbangs, frags, incendiaries, everything. All clipped to nylon belts, strung over her hips, wrapped around her waist, slung over her shoulders. She looked like a walking anti-terrorism billboard. Stay in school kids, or Terror Toga will blow you up and THEN stab you!

As it was, Mirko was feeling particularly sorry for herself, so she gave in and kept the bloody thing. She slowly turned it this way and that, enjoying the moment of blissful silence.

Toga leaned over, claiming Mirko's shoulder as a headrest, and hugging her arm.

After a few minutes of peace, where she almost felt like Rumi again, she spoke. "I, ah… I'm sorry."

"For?"

She opened her mouth but couldn't figure out a good way of saying what she was thinking. Instead, she just gestured at her own throat.

Toga blinked, then it clicked. "Oh! Ohh…" Her fingers trailed over the mottled purple bruising at her throat. Her face went pink. "I didn't mind it at all." She wet her lips.

"I… What the fuck are you?"

"I'm Hi-Mi-Ko To-Ga, and I come in one size!" She bared her fangs and held her hands up to her face, curled like claws.

Mirko's mouth twitched. She put up a good fight, but before long she was doubled over, roaring with laughter. It felt good, even if she was laughing because of Toga. "Oh god." She swiped a tear away with her wrist. "Tora no Toga, so fierce!" The fatigue, the pain, and the fucking tinnitus were forgotten, if temporarily.

Himiko giggled, teeth glinting in the dim light.

"I believe we are approaching the lowest level of the facility." Kurogiri's interruption came over the radio instead of through a portal, for which Mirko was grateful. "Prepare yourselves to fight."

"Ooh! C'mon, c'mon!" Toga bounced to her feet and hauled Mirko out of her seat. "Lesgo, I wanna get paid!" She trotted off but didn't make it very far. "WAIT!" She came to a screeching halt, arms thrown wide.

Mirko recoiled at the outburst. "The fuck? What!?"

"I almost forgot!" Toga whirled around, threw her arms around Mirko's neck, and pulled her into a kiss.

Mirko really should have seen it coming.

Toga pulled back quickly, flushed and love-drunk. "For luck!" She chirped. There was a sharp plastic snap, and with that she pranced off to join the others.

Looking down, she saw that Toga had fastened a belt of grenades around her waist. "I- fucking what? Oi! Toga! The hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Uhh… you throw 'em!" she called back, giggling.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Mirko groaned. "My fucking life…"

Neito Monoma flopped on the ground, bleeding from the ears, after he'd emptied his guts on the concrete. With both eardrums ruptured his equilibrium was shot. It was unlikely that he could continue the fight. He was doing his best to get to his feet though.

Midnight hadn't called the match yet.

Katsuki's brow twitched. "Fucking seriously? What'd you expect? Dumbass!" He covertly eyed the impressive amount of damage that Monoma had caused with just a single explosion. More than half the ring was just utterly fucked. It was a damn good thing that he'd gotten out of the way in time. While his body was adapted to handle concussive shock, Katsuki didn't want to find out how well he could stand up to explosions from other people. Especially not on national TV.

"What did you say!?" Monoma continued to babble deliriously, something about 1-A versus 1-B to the bitter end.

"I said don't copy quirks that you don't know how to use, you goddamn moron!" Katsuki stomped forward with a grumble, grabbed the back of the idiot's collar, and dragged him to the edge of the ring. Without ceremony, he tossed Monoma out on his ass.

"Well, that was anticlimactic. WINNER: KATSUKI BAKUGO BY RINGOUT!"

Katsuki grit his teeth.

At first blush Monoma was utterly useless. Despite that, the annoying blond had proven himself to be a schemer, probably in the same league as Deku. The extra worked out a plan to get in close for just long enough to use his quirk, and he managed to pull it off. It was fucking unnerving. With the evidence right in his face, Katsuki had to admit – begrudgingly – that some of these extras had skill beyond their quirks. Skill, and luck.

Resistance at the foot of the elevator had been light. Suspiciously so. There had only been a token squad of goons to smack around, and the League barely had to lift a finger to do so. Now, they trotted through room after empty room, searching blindly for their objective.

"Warning: Liquid Helium feed pressure is below safe levels." The robotic voice reiterated. Hazard lights still flashed throughout the facility. Everything on the Cryovault sublevel was scaled oddly. The halls were around ten meters wide, and at least twice as tall. Like it was designed for giants. Or people with gigantification quirks.

"Alright, where the actual fuck is the guy we're supposed to spring?" Mirko groused. This job had dragged on long enough. Whatever momentum they started with had been lost as they fought their way down to the Cryovault level. At this point, there was no telling who or what was waiting for them up on the surface. Thinking about it made Mirko antsy. Hopefully, Kurogiri could portal everyone out from way down here. If not…

A low metallic rasping echoed through the corridor. Like a thousand pairs of scissors closing at random intervals. The others heard it too, judging by how they all stopped where they were.

"Uh… why do I really not like the sound of that." Shuichi muttered, eyes darting around.

"Oh great…" Shigaraki and Mirko exchanged a tired, tired look.

She grimaced. "You know… I just realized we haven't seen the drone swarm thing the announcer's been bitching about…"

A silvery tidal wave crashed around a corner at the far end of the corridor, flowing up the wall and turning, rushing straight at them. As it got closer, it became apparent that the wave wasn't a fluid, but a swarm of long, slender, knifelike drones, schooling like blackfin barracuda in attack mode. The sound came from the drones scraping past one another as they flowed down the corridor.

"Oh. Oh fuck you." Shigaraki snapped. "You just had to open your stupid mouth!"

The school advanced, careening off the walls, floors, and ceiling, shredding everything in its path.

Mirko had been alarmed at first. Now she was terrified. "Aw hell..." She turned and booked it. "RUN!"

Toga was already halfway back to where they started.

Kurogiri quickly helped the others catch up with her.

"Oi! Don't abandon your leader, you toothy bitch!" Mirko loped ahead of the group, hunting for any kind of environmental advantage that could be used against the drones.

Toga hollered back, unapologetic, while blindly hurling grenades behind her. "Are you crazy!? I'm too pretty to die in a freaky chipper shredder! Every woman for herself!"

The air changed. Toshinori couldn't quite place it, but it was there. An insidious whisper just beneath the threshold of hearing. A phantom vibration that had him questioning his own senses. A word on the tip of the tongue, or a memory that couldn't quite be remembered, flickering at the edge of his consciousness. At first, he thought it was just him. Then he saw the change reflected in the spectators around him. Confusion. Irritation. Melancholy. A subtle undercurrent, slowly, softly, gently altering the collective feel of the audience.

One For All stirred restlessly.

He politely excused himself from his seat, and with great care, searched out the source of that disquiet. He moved slowly, outwardly calm, into the concourse. He followed his gut to a staircase, one restricted to UA Faculty and Staff. The moment he was hidden from the public he broke into run, taking the stairs two at a time. Without drawing on One For All. Just… Just in case it was nothing.

He ascended, up past the small section of offices, ones used for advertising and maintenance. Up past the AV control booth where Aizawa and Yamada were giving their commentary on the final event. Then higher still, until he reached the door to the baren rooftop. A place where no one had any business being, especially not with the Sports Festival in full swing.

He hesitated at the door. A thin film of frost crept across the brushed aluminum push bar. The air was cold. It stunk of death and rot long past. Like a forgotten crypt opened after a thousand years of quiet oblivion. He was certain now. Certain that he wasn't imagining things. The worst feeling of dread clenched at his battered old heart.

He threw the door open, forcing his determination to surface.

The roar of the crowd, so far below, was a dull rumble carried on the breeze. Young Midoriya was fighting his heart out, and he was winning.

Toshinori wasn't smiling.

"What an incredible young man. Determined. Intelligent. Strong. Certainly, you've found a worthy successor to your legacy, Old Friend."

Before him, wheelchair bound, sat the Living Embodiment of Evil.

"All For One."

Izuku swayed back.

Sen Kaibara darted in, swinging low with his quirk – Spiral – running at full speed. He was fast, strong, and smart. Dangerous. He feinted, ducking low to rake his fingertips across the concrete.

A spray of grit and dust flew into Izuku's face. He jerked back, rubbing at his eyes. "Gah, that stings!"

"See, you 1-A guys aren't so tough." Kaibara muttered calmly. "Dunno why everyone's going nuts over you. Monoma's a jackass, don't get me wrong, but he has a point: you're no better than us."

Izuku grit his teeth against a surge of irritation. The rumor mill at UA was just as vicious as at any other school. It was one thing for people to speculate about what 1-A had gone through, but to imply that 1-A looked down on everyone else? That was going too far. "We never claimed to be better, and we definitely didn't ask to be attacked!"

Kaibara attacked indirectly once more, pelting Izuku with more flakes of pulverized concrete.

"Aren't we here for the same reason?" Blind as he was, Izuku had no way of knowing where Kaibara was going to strike from next. He didn't have superhuman hearing like Rumi, or any other extrasensory factors to his quirk. With a grimace, Izuku realized that he'd just have to get lucky.

"Yeah. I guess we are, but perception is everything if you wanna be a hero, and everyone already thinks you idiots are leagues above us. Is it fair to hold it against you? Not really. But here we are. Frustration doesn't have to make sense, it just is."

You're about as lucky as they come, useless idiot. That snide and doubtful train of thought was back, eroding away at his confidence, his determination. Have you considered winning without relying on chance? You think Rumi relies on chance?

Izuku grimaced. FINE, I guess I'll make my own luck.

Up in the stands, Kendo winced. "I am so sorry guys. We don't all feel that way, I swear."

Monoma popped out of his seat with something snarky on his lips.

Kendo rounded on him. "SIT!"

The blond, despite his currently regrowing eardrums, got the message. He sullenly returned to his seat.

Yaoyorozu smiled politely. "I can't speak for everyone, naturally, but there are no hard feelings. We're aware of the impact public image has on the career of a hero." She sent a sidelong glance down the row of seats.

Bakugo was grumbling loudly between Kirishima and Kaminari. He stood and cupped his hands round his mouth. "KICK HIS LAGGARD 1-B ASS YOU STUPID DEKU!"

"FIGHT! DEKU! FIGHT!" Uraraka screamed, right next to Bakugo.

Yaoyorozu cringed. "Oh. Oh dear. I apologize, Kendo. Like I said, I don't speak for everyone."

In the ring, Izuku was getting pummeled.

Kaibara wasn't holding back.

This is bad. Without sight he had no effective way to counter Kaibara's onslaught, and worse still, he had no way of knowing how close he was to the edge of the ring. Izuku couldn't afford to lose. He had a lot riding on winning the sports festival, both for All Might's hopes, and for Rumi's freedom. Getting an internship in the Top Ten was extremely important. He was hoping for Hawks – if the man recovered in time – but he would take who he could get.

I am NOT going to lose, not here.

And so Izuku floundered around the arena, doing what he could to blink away the silica grit in his eyes without straying too far from the center of the ring, all while dodging Kaibara. He was impressed with how well he was managing, all things considered. If only he could see.

Stop patting yourself on the back and focus. Deku.

"Alright, you're actually pretty tough, I'll give you that." Kaibara panted. "But it's over. Sorry 1-A."

Frustrated, tired, and sore, Izuku tensed. He had to do something. One For All crackled dangerously.

He gasped, lurching to the left. It felt like someone had rammed an icepick into his right temple. On autopilot, driven by an overriding fear of death, he whipped around and threw the mother of all punches in the direction that pain came from. "SMASH!" A haymaker, with one hundred percent of One For All behind it. The thundercrack was deafening.

The spectators that happened to be downrange were blasted back into their seats by the wave of pressure.

Izuku's fist didn't connect with anything solid, that much he knew, but he was still swamped by the fear that he'd gone too far. He hadn't meant to go full bore, he just… reacted. Prying one eyelid open, Izuku squinted, desperately looking for Kaibara. He spotted him, or a blur that looked like him, somewhere outside of the ring.

"HOLY- WOAH NELLY!" Mic shouted. "Who knew that the little dude was packing so much heat? Man, your kids are strapped, Eraser!"

The crowd was going wild.

Miss Midnight gently took Izuku by the shoulder. "He's okay, Midoriya. You only scared him half to death."

Izuku sagged. "Oh, thank god! I- I didn't mean to-"

"Shh, I know hon, I know. Kaibara isn't hurt, you aren't hurt, and everything is A-Okay. Just take a moment to breathe. Here, let's get you to an eyewash station and then to Recovery Girl, just in case. Alright?"

"WINNER: IZUKU MIDORIYA, BY RINGOUT OR KNOCKOUT, WHICHEVER CAME FIRST!"

Ashido hauled herself up and over the back of her seat, where she'd been thrown by the blast of air. "Holy shit, guys! Is that what Midori did to that Nomu thing!?"

"Yeah. I think he might have hit Nomu harder than even All Might did. Kero." Asui smiled widely.

Uraraka nodded eagerly. "He did the same to the Zero Pointer in our entrance exam! It was so awesome!"

"Most impressive." Tokoyami murmured. Dark Shadow crowed from under Tokoyami's jacket: "Dude's a freakin' badass!"

Monoma was scooping his jaw off the floor, speechless.

"First Bakugo, then Todoroki, and now Midoriya?" Kendo slowly turned to Yaoyorozu. "Okay, spill. What the hell is Mr. Aizawa teaching you guys?"

Yaoyorozu hummed pleasantly, eyes twinkling, as she combed through her windswept hair. "Oh, nothing more than what Mr. Kan teaches your class, I'd wager. Mr. Aizawa adheres to Principal Nezu's first year curriculum quite rigidly."

"Are you out of your freakin' mind?! We can't leave her! I won't!" Toga snarled, brandishing a dagger crusted with dried blood as she ran alongside Tomura.

In their mad scramble to get away from the school of angry knife fish, the League split up.

They found out pretty quickly that the swarm was pursuing Mirko exclusively.

Which led to now, where the rest of the group was desperately searching for the target. The two idiots were screeching about 'Mirko this' and 'Mirko that'. Tomura was about a half second away from ditching them, retrieving the target himself, and getting the hell out of this freakshow nightmare. "Weren't you just saying, 'every woman for themselves?' Sure changed your tune quickly." He threw out his arms. "You wanna go after her? Be my guest. I'd rather live, thanks."

"I- you- she's not supposed to die like this!" The blonde headache just wouldn't let it go.

Better still, the bloody robovoice on the intercom sounded like it was having a stroke. "Warning: Electrical fault detected in- Warning: Pneumatic reservoir has depressuri- Warning: the- Warning: - War- Warnin- Warning: Emergency Reactor meltdown is imminent. Please evacuate the- Warning: Drone swarm has- Warning: Mirko has entered the facility." The word vomit just kept coming, and the Cryovault level groaned like a dying animal. The already dim lighting flickered anemically. Tomura was suddenly aware of just how far underground they were. His chest tightened.

Kurogiri interjected. "Tomura Shigaraki, please reconsider! We must not abandon Mirko!"

His hate for Mirko grew as Kurogiri opposed his will. "You follow my orders, Kurogiri. Not hers!" He would have to be reprogramed once this mess was over.

Shuichi butted in, more demanding than he had any right to be. "No way, Mirko needs help! She's your leader, you can't just ditch her!"

Shigaraki very nearly decayed the lizard on the spot. "Who the fuck are you anyway? Get! Lost!"

"Warning: Mirko has en-en-en-entered the facility."

The bickering continued. It was infuriating. How did these losers not see that he didn't care about Mirko? Even if she did belong to him. Dying to further his goals was an… acceptable way for a tool to break itself. These idiots though, they didn't see that. He didn't care about Mirko at all. He hated her.

They came upon a large pair of bulkhead doors with signage reading "MAIN CRYOVAULT ACCESS" on the wall above. Kurogiri fiddled with the control panel on the side, and the doors slid open with a hydraulic whisper.

Tomura was first into the vault atrium. The wall of guns he came face to face with halted his progress rather quickly.

Toga crashed into his back. "Oh… so that's where everyone went." she said lamely.

This looked to be Shingen's last stand. Dozens of troopers, with a myriad of weapons, each decked out in bulky thermally insulated armor.

There was a momentary pause as the League nervously sized up their opposition and the troopers processed their sudden entrance.

The doors slid shut with finality.

It didn't take long for the guards to open fire after that.

Kurogiri shielded the League as they scrambled for cover.

The Cryovault was, as the name implied, bitterly cold. The lion's share of liquid helium in the facility was piped all the way down here, into massive heat exchangers that chilled the interior of the vault to near absolute zero. Naturally, they weren't inside the vault proper, otherwise they'd be frozen solid and quite dead. Still, the cold cut deep. Tomura's bones ached. He rapidly lost the dexterity in his hands. Each icy breath burned at his lungs.

Toga, half nude, and Shuichi, a lizard, fared much worse than Tomura.

Since he was a Nomu, Kurogiri shrugged off the cold like it was nothing, and he took over both offense and defense, shielding them from incoming quirks, bullets, and grenades, while snipping the heads off anyone that got too close.

The cold, if anything, made Kurogiri more efficient. He was precise as ever, but the number of portals he was opening was impressive, given his usual limit. Beyond that, the sheer speed with which he was reacting to threats and summarily executing them was incredible. The normally strong defense he put up had become seemingly impenetrable. Good for their chances of survival, but ultimately useless if they froze to death.

A newly headless guard – one that tried to rush them with a low tier speed quirk – crashed to the floor just meters away.

Toga let out a feral hiss, scrabbled forward, and hacked the corpse out of its warm armored coat. Prize pulled tight around her shoulders, she darted back to safety, where she collapsed between Shuichi and himself. "M-M-Mir-k-k-ko." She chattered into her radio. "V-v-vault… H… help!"

Tomura didn't hesitate to press himself against her, desperate for even a single joule of body heat.

Mirko's voice came in strong in his ear. "Almost there! Get the fuck down!" Tomura, for the first time ever, was happy to hear her voice.

Hawks really hadn't expected to wake up again. Not that he knew he'd been unconscious or anything like that. No, in the last moments that he could remember, he had accepted that he was going to die. Yet here he was. In a hospital bed, trussed up like the mummified remains of some long dead pharaoh.

Hawks also hadn't expected to die shortly after waking up.

As far as expectations went, it looked like his assassin was equally surprised that he was awake.

The woman, dressed in scrubs, stared blankly.

Hawks stared back. "That… really hurts." He rasped, referring to the alarmingly large needle she'd just stabbed into his chest. Probably right into his aorta.

His voice seemed to do the trick, jogging her into action. She squinted and mashed the syringe's plunger down, dumping an unknown quantity of an unknown liquid right into his heart. The sarcastic part of him asserted that the mystery murder juice was gasoline or something because it certainly felt like his innards had just been set ablaze.

He went to punch her in the face, but that didn't really work out. Instead, he sort of flopped about like a fish out of water. It was pretty of embarrassing. How long have I been here? He wasn't totally hopeless though. He managed to move enough that his atrophied body rolled off the edge of the hospital bed. He fell in a tangle of IV lines and monitor wires. Definitely part of the plan.

The ECG machine started shrieking.

Miss Assassin swore and made for the door. Right when she reached it, it was wrenched open from the other side.

A tall and burly looking guy, also in scrubs, stood on the other side. "He- what the hell is going on?" His nametag read Natsuo Todoroki.

Hawks started convulsing. "Little… help?" He missed most of their exchange while he tried to untangle himself, but when he next looked up, Todoroki was inching forward, trying to corner the assassin. While screaming for help. Smart dude.

The assassin grimaced. She worked her jaw in an odd way.

Hawks saw what looked like a loose molar stuck to her tongue. Oh. Fuck. That's not good.

"Just… just drop the syringe and surrender. Please. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't let you hurt my patients." Todoroki had his hands up, open palmed. Non-threatening, but he also wasn't backing down.

The assassin bit down on the false tooth, cracking it.

Hawks was expecting poison. Something like potassium cyanide. Something reasonable.

Her head exploded in the most gruesome way.

Maybe he should stop expecting things. He didn't seem to be in Luck's good graces lately.

Todoroki yelled. He fell right onto his ass and scooted back until he was pressed against the wall. Face painted with gore. He looked like he was spiraling into a panic attack. Not that anyone could blame him.

Hawks tried not to scream when he rolled himself over. "Hey… not to be… that guy…" He crawled in a pathetic way, until he could snare Todoroki's ankle, and thus his attention. "But I think… I'm going into… cardiac arrest…"

The final match of the final event started with, not a bang, but a deluge of kiloton detonations. Kacchan really wasn't playing around.

Using everything he'd learned from Rumi, from Mr. Aizawa, and from years and years of Kacchan, Izuku surged through the onslaught. He'd been holding back as much as he could through the entirety of the final event. Relying on good tactics and luck to get as far as he could while limiting One For All to just a sliver of power. It had been a good choice. Now though, he was at the endgame. He shifted effortlessly into the lowest level of Full Cowling. Then he pushed a bit further past that. His muscles burned right at the threshold of pain.

Darting under a blast of explosive fury, Izuku slid forward on his knees, under the cover of Kacchan's smoke. Izuku braked with his left foot. Supporting his wrist, Izuku flicked his middle finger, blasting a bolt of compressed air into Kacchan's gut at point blank range. Air Force was the name he'd settled on for this one.

Kacchan went flying, but he was too skilled to be bested by a single attack. With crackling palms he reversed his direction, hurtling right for Izuku. "THAT ALL YOU GOT? DEKU!?"

In the stands, Uraraka shrieked. "Oh god, oh god, I can't watch!" She covered her face but peeked through her fingers.

"Oh. Oh!" Jiro shouted. She'd grabbed Kaminari by the collar and violently shook him as she watched the fight. "Oh shit! How the hell- were both of them holding back all day?!"

"Like, I knew they were good, but this is crazy!" Kaminari had his hands on his head as he watched, wide eyed.

"Heads up!"

A massive explosion ripped through the arena. Bits of spalled concrete, still smoking, rained down on the stands.

Mina leaned over the safety rail in front of their seats, gesturing wildly. "What the- was that a counter plus a freakin' supermove? Midori, what the hell!?"

"Man, this is wild! Who… who the hell are we supposed to cheer for?"

Kendo hopped up, balancing on the guardrail. "Kick his ass, Midoriya! Fight! Fight! Fight!" The few in 1-B that were in a cheering mood followed suit. Bakugo didn't seem too popular with that crowd.

Iida scoffed. "It would be wrong for us to cheer for either Bakugo or- HEY! Bakugo, you scoundrel! Fight fair or don't fight at all!" He chopped at the air as he ranted.

In the commentator's box, Present Mic bellowed into the microphone, pounding his fist into the tabletop. "I CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES! ARE THESE REALLY FIRST YEARS? ERASER?!"

"Just… try not to destroy the entire arena…" groaned Aizawa.

The fighters rebounded from their latest exchange, with Izuku shaking out his right hand and Bakugo nursing a bloody nose.

"Think this means fuckall?" Incensed, the blond whipped his arm through the air, flicking droplets of blood from his fingertips. "So what?"

Izuku grinned broadly. "Between us? No. That one was for Rumi anyway."

Bakugo's pupils shrunk to pinpricks, and something animalistic ripped its way from his throat. He took one perilous step forward, palms exploding involuntarily. Then, amazingly, he stopped. The snarl bled off his face, and they stared each other down for a tense moment. With eerie calm, Bakugo took a step back.

Izuku tensed, lighting crackling across his skin.

Kacchan raised his hands, which popped anemically. In short order, the ring was choked with dark smoke, much, much thicker than any he had produced thus far.

That's new. Izuku went still as death, not daring to even breathe. Listening for Kacchan took priority. He was expecting a titanic blast from somewhere up high. Howitzer Impact? Or AP Shot? That's what experience told him to expect, at least, but he was met with nothing but silence.

In his skull he felt a lancing pain, which forced Izuku's attention to the right. He thought it was going to be Kacchan.

Instead, he came face to face with a tall, pale, and dark-haired woman. One who he had never met or even seen before this moment, and yet he knew, deep in his soul, that this was Nana Shimura. All Might's Mentor, and the seventh inheritor of One For All.

She looked so… so sad. "Izuku. We have little time." She reached out.

No explanation Izuku could come up with made the slightest bit of sense. His knowledge of her name. The fact that she was the seventh inheritor. The deep familiarity he felt just from seeing her face. Why she stood before him, here of all places and now of all times. "H-how… How do I know you? I…"

In absolute silence, Kacchan sailed through the image of Nana and smashed a right hook into Izuku's jaw.

He hit the ground hard. Izuku's brain caught up to the fight. He rolled and shot forward, ramming his shoulder into Katsuki's gut, lifting him up and slamming his back into the broken concrete.

Winded, Katsuki heaved, and lined up both palms for a double power blast.

Izuku shielded his face. The concussive force hurled him up into the air and temporarily cleared the smoke from the arena. He sailed towards the edge of the ring. In a split second he'd be out of bounds. I've come so far; I won't let you beat me now!" he torqued his body around and fired off a hundred percent punch up into the sky. The air was thin enough that he didn't seriously damage his arm, and the backpressure sent him careening back at Katsuki with blistering speed. It's time! Full Cowling: Rabbit Style! "SMAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!" A terrifyingly powerful axe kick cratered the jagged remains of the ring.

Mirko made it to the Cryovault. Kicked in the doors. Threw the defenders into disarray. Then she dove for cover under Kurogiri's portals.

The drone swarm followed her closely. It poured through the ruined doorway and annihilated everything in the antechamber in short order. All the Shingen guards were reduced to a fine red mist in the blink of an eye. The swarm turned inward, roiling around the League.

Kurogiri did everything he could, but he was only one person, and the swarm was relentless. Little bursts, each containing dozens of mechanized horrors, split off from the main school to probe for openings in his defense.

Kurogiri redirected them as they came, back into the larger body, creating a thunderstorm of sparks and noise each time. The steel collar he wore began to heat up, even in the frigid air. It glowed a dull cherry red. "Cannot. Maintain." He fell to a knee. "Hurry!" The utter volume of attacks that he had to divert was enough to overwhelm him.

"Do it!" Mirko roared. "Do it now!"

Shigaraki raised his arm, clutching a cassette deck. Before he could press play, a single drone darted through Kurogiri's bubble.

It severed Shigaraki's arm, just above the elbow.

The cassette deck clattered to the ground, bouncing outside of Kurogiri's rapidly shrinking perimeter.

Before she could think, Mirko's legs moved. She dove, snatching the player up.

The swarm was on her immediately, slicing her to pieces.

Screaming, she smashed the play button.

Then came the words, dripping with silky malice. "Awaken, Machia."

The swarm froze in midair. Each and every drone hovered in place, all pointed right at Mirko.

She locked up. Teacher. That was Teacher's voice. "No… No, that was…"

As one, the hundreds of murderous drones swiveled, each pointing directly to point at a spot on the floor, in the center of the room.

With a furious rending shriek, the floor of the vault atrium buckled upwards and split wide open.

On her knees, Rumi shook. This wasn't a vault. Or a prison. This was Pandora's Box. "Machia..."

Suddenly, everything that was weird about the Biomedical Facility made sense. The private powerplant. The absurd number of private soldiers defending the area. The anti-tank weapons that pointed deeper into the facility. The liquid helium. The fucking drone swarm. Every last detail, all of it, was meant to contain Gigantomachia.

That name… just by hearing that name, Rumi remembered.

She remembered everything.

Shigaraki cursed. He barely stopped himself from disintegrating the controller.

Rumi had been watching him try to beat this level for nearly an hour. "Can… can I try?" She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt when the older boy – he was ten, or maybe twelve – glared through his hand shaped mask.

"Fine… you won't beat it though." He shoved the controller into her arms.

Gigantomachia bellowed as the drone swarm descended on him, tearing into his stony flesh with urgency. Dauntless, he ripped through the steel floor like it was nothing, emerging from his absolute zero tomb.

Rumi bounced between the girders, touching only the spots painted bright yellow. She twirled into a midair somersault and snatched a red ribbon off a steel cable. She swung from a lower cable like a primate, landed in a handspring, flipped, and came to rest in a small yellow circle with her arms out to the sides. Overjoyed, she rushed to Mr. Kurogiri, offering the ribbon like a prize. "I did it! Did you see Mr. Kurogiri? Did you see me!? I got it right this time!"

Kurogiri gently patted her on the head. "Yes, little one, I saw the whole thing. You did very well. Would you care for something to eat? You've been training for some time now."

Machia shrugged off the drones like so many gnats. With a ponderous swing of his mole like claws, he scattered the swarm, crushing dozens in the process.

Kurogiri swayed on his feet. "To-mu-ra…" A shaky portal opened under Shigaraki, Toga, and Shuichi. They fell through, probably to the bar. Or somewhere safe. He stretched his arm out, reaching for her from across the vault. "Ru-mi..." His acidic yellow eyes winked out. He pitched backwards, falling through his own collapsing portal before it disappeared entirely.

Just like that, Rumi was alone. With… Gigantomachia. Something that she thought was only a bad dream from her childhood. A living night-terror.

The Golden Cat was burning. A monster raged through it. Tearing down doors and walls with mole like claws. "Where is the mountain rabbit!? Bring her to me! My master will not be denied!"

Rumi and Miss Sally hid in Marguerite's office. The madam herself was… not in one piece. "Run, sweetie. Run. Run as far as you can, don't stop for anything." Sally whispered hoarsely. "Promise me that you won't stop, and you won't come back. Ever! Okay?"

Rumi clamped her hands over her mouth, desperately silencing herself. She shook her head, no. No! I don't want to go alone!

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

The air was so horribly hot, and thick with smoke.

Miss Sally gently stroked the back of one of Rumi's ears.

"You have to go, sweetie. Promise me. Please!"

Rumi fought with everything she had to eke out a pitiful little "I promise."

Miss Sally pulled her into a crushing hug before kissing her on the forehead. "I love you, Rumi." She stood, hefting Marguerite's shotgun with unsteady hands.

Gigantomachia raged, and raged, and raged, demolishing everything in sight. The drone swarm was in tatters. The large school was broken into smaller independent groups.

One came for her. She watched it descend without the will or the desire to get out of the way.

With a baying cry, Machia lunged, shielding Rumi with his massive body. It- He? He made eye contact with her. Fervent recognition shone in his beady eyes.

Rumi pitched forward and retched. Vile black ooze poured from her mouth. It defied gravity, clinging to her body, spreading like a cancer.

She remembered. She remembered everything.

"Don't you dare say his name." The embers of One For All flickered, worn and weary. "You don't have the right!" A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Toshinori's heart raced. "If you even think of going near him, I will destroy everything that's left of you." Fierce though his words were, he wasn't sure he could back them up. Not now. Not with the weeping wounds from their last battle.

All For One chuckled merrily. "You of all people should understand. Might makes right." He sighed, consumed with nostalgia. "Ah, but you needn't worry, All Might. I've seen the error of my ways."

Toshinori swallowed dryly. There were so many people below. So many innocent lives hung in the balance. It was the only reason he hadn't thrown everything and more at All For One. Yet. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage it, but he would get this monster away from the stadium even if it cost him everything.

"Truly, there doesn't exist a way to force my wayward brother to return to me. That was my greatest blunder, I think. Flexing all this…" he lifted his arm, gesturing at the horizon, "mundane power. Attempting to bring something truly eternal to heel. Oh, how foolish."

For the briefest moment, Toshinori's will faltered. He felt leaden. Weak. His heart rattled faster still. NO! I am HERE! The World's Symbol of Peace and Justice! Faster than ever before, All Might arrived on the scene. He towered over All For One.

"No. Rest assured, All Might, I won't touch a hair on the boys head. It simply isn't necessary." He slowly tilted his head, leering up at All Might through empty eye sockets. A world-eating grin raked across his face. "He'll follow his heart to me of his own free will."

In an instant, All Might moved. With himself firmly between the arena and All For One, he hauled his fist back, body charged far, far beyond one-hundred percent.

All For One simply… fell apart, body crumbling like desiccated earth. "It was a pleasure to catch up, but it seems my next appointment has arrived ahead of schedule. We'll be in touch, Old Friend." The remains were so light and fine that they caught the breeze. In short order, All For One was gone. "Oh, and do try to take better care of yourself, All Might." His disembodied voice floated on the wind. "You seem to have lost some weight."

A tense moment later, and All Might let out a rattling gasp. He sagged to his knees. All the crystalized power of One For All slipped through his fingers.

Mirko rematerialized in an underground discharge channel. A subterranean cathedral, cast in brutalist concrete, meant to save whatever city was above her from raging floodwaters.

"Rumi, my dear. Welcome home." He sat in his wheelchair, well dressed, and tethered to several medical instruments. Ones that monitored his vitals, fed him oxygen, and filtered his blood. The upper half of his face was covered entirely in thick scar tissue. He had no visible eyes. The man looked for all the world like he was harmless. Like he was moments from death's door. "I am Teacher."

That voice. The words reverberated, both in her ears and inside her skull. Normally hearing it would have sent Mirko retching, but she now felt – in some strange way – desensitized to it. Maybe it was the anger. Or the flood of grief she didn't know she'd repressed. "No." She stood, weary to the bone. "You… I know who you are. I remember now." She slowly reached for the large pouch at the small of her back while carefully watching his face. Her fingertips brushed past Toga's grenades.

He didn't falter, or otherwise protest.

With a flicker of her thumb, she sent the sterile cap to an autoinjector flying. She stabbed it into her thigh twice. "All For One." Uttering his name was like swallowing molten lead. Her body protested as the spirit of Evil passed through her vocal cords.

"Oh? How marvelous!" He laughed, and offered a charming smile, one that was far too wide, too ravenous to be anything but a lie. "You've been away for so many years. It's good to have you return to us. To Dear Tomura. He was quite distraught when you left, so many long ago."

Dead inside, Mirko had no snarky retort. "What do you want?"

"Ah, straight to the point. The folly of youth, always chomping at the bit, racing from one adventure to the next. To answer your question, Dear Rumi, I want everything. The world and more. But that is neither the subject of our discussion nor within your ability to provide." He chatted blithely, as though she were an old friend.

"Get to the fucking point." She was hoping for some sort of violent outburst at the disrespect. She was disappointed.

All For One only laughed genially. "I do admire the strength of your spirit, dear girl." He sighed, reminiscent. "To get to the quick of things, you are to be rewarded for services rendered. You've been such an excellent ally to Dear Tomura. So brutally useful, so versatile, all despite his… reluctant cooperation."

All of Mirko's instincts thundered at once. Reward. Run. Run! RUN!

Solemn emotion flickered over the Bond. Determination. Conviction. Hope. Trust. From that maternal Third Party she and Izuku had been trying to figure out. As the whispers melded together, Mirko's raw nerves were soothed.

Nana Shimura. She knew, somehow, that the Third Party was Nana Shimura. She had no fucking clue who that was, or even how they were connected, or why any of this was the way it was, but Mirko was comforted all the same.

Surprise. Relief. Happiness. Warmth.

Yeah, I dunno how, or why, or who, but you owe me one hell of an explanation, Nana Shimura.

Amusement. Determination.

At that moment, something clicked. About the situation. About her life. About All For One. "I refuse."

His smile never faltered, even for an instant. "Oh, but I insist." He raised his arm gently. "Failure to recognize your sterling accomplishments would be a grievous breach of honor."

Mirko was lifted into the air and pulled across the cavernous distance between herself and All For One.

"You know exactly fuck all about Honor, All For One." She thrashed and railed against the invisible hold. "You stole me from my original family. You destroyed the Golden Cat. You killed the first person that I can remember caring!" Her arms were forced outward, as though she were being crucified. "You put me through all your twisted fucking games and gave me to Shigaraki like- like- like a fucking pet!" The stream of hate poured out of her, faster and louder. She seethed. "You torched my fucking life and pissed in the ashes, and now you want to reward me? Fuck! You!" Good god-damn, that felt amazing to say. She hovered close to him now. So close that she'd need to take a step back to get a solid punch in.

All For One's smile faded with a long suffering sigh. She imagined he would have rolled his eyes if he still had them. "Oh, Rumi. If only you realized that you mean the world to me, as does Dear Tomura. All that I do is for your sake."

"My name." She hissed, and with absolute strength of will Mirko opposed whatever quirk he was using to immobilize her. "Is Mirko." She lifted her thumb, drawing All For One's attention to the armed grenade in her left hand. Moments ago, with some sleight of hand trick, she'd palmed it and pulled the pin. "THE GOD-DAMN!" The arming lever made a happy metallic ping! as it fucked off into the distance. "HERO!"

"What-"

BOOM!

All For One lost his focus.

Mirko hit the ground hard, finally free from his grasp. Her left arm was gone. There were numerous other injuries, to be sure, but she couldn't feel a thing. With the most desperate hop of her life, Mirko launched herself down the discharge channel, far from All For One.

She touched down and skidded for a good twenty meters, with sparks and chips of concrete shooting up from her toeboxes. Once stopped, she rapidly fashioned a tourniquet from her long hair.

All For One chuckled in the distance. "Oh, but you are a special one, Rumi."

I should run. Get help. Or… I can end this now.

Determination. Conviction.

Who was she kidding? Her mind was already made up. I am going to die.

Sorrow. Warmth. Trust.

The thought wasn't frightening. It should have been. Fishing a bundle of three autoinjectors from a pouch, she ripped the caps off with her teeth and stabbed all three into her thigh at once. Then again. Then a third time. Nine doses, plus the two from earlier. Blood pounded in her one good ear, and with enough wrath to make the devil cower, Mirko launched herself at All For One. The force of her leap demolished a wide cone of concrete to her rear. Thick columns, dozens of meters high, toppled like dominos.

All For One rose, badly burnt across the top right quarter of his body. The wounds healed rapidly. He laughed pleasantly. "I should warn you, child, the only violence you'll encounter here is that which you have brought yourself. Spearlike Bones. Sever. Metallizer times two. Size. Targeting. Kinetic booster times four." Large shards of bone shot out of All For One's right arm and were severed at the base before being transmuted from bone to iron. The size of the spears grew exponentially, until each were the size of a utility pole. They swiveled in midair, tips tracking Mirko as she shot through the air like a bat out of hell. "So ruthless. So willing to do what must be done. So good at hiding your intentions. Hawks trained you very well." With a negligent mental twitch, the iron spears were all launched at Mirko.

Mirko howled, angry beyond anger, hateful beyond hate. She flew into the barrage, leapfrogging from spear to spear, building her speed higher and higher as she clawed her way to One For All. She had a plan, and it was a fucking terrible one, but she was committed. I can't believe it, but I need you Himiko. I need your magic touch, so don't let me down now! On her chosen trajectory, Mirko closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and stopped breathing.

The warmth and trust from Third Party – from Nana – was the strongest it had ever felt. Mirko was tempted to reach for Izuku, but she had no way of knowing if their bond was compromised. A gleam of sorrow drowned in her raging heart. She hoped he would understand.

"Eh? Oh, how brilliant! You're certainly full of surpri-"

Mirko flickered back into All For One's perception just when it was too late for him to do anything about it. "SMAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!" At damn near half the speed of sound, she hammered her size eight steel tipped boot right into the center of All For One's scarred face.

This was it. The end. Katsuki was spent. Blood dripped from his palms, and the veins in his forearms throbbed painfully. His own ears were ringing, which meant that Deku had to be completely deaf by now.

The useless fuck was still standing.

Katsuki felt a grudging, fledgling, and terribly weak respect for him. Maybe… maybe Izuku wasn't so useless. Fucker had been holding out on him with his quirk, but… he wasn't so sure that Izuku was looking down on him. Maybe… he'd even been sincere when he said he only just developed the stupid thing.

"Lets… end… this…" Deku panted. "One last attack." He drew himself up to his full and unimpressive height.

With a grunt, Katsuki straightened as much as he could.

Something… strange happened then. As Deku shifted his weight, the look on his face changed. Weary intensity gave way to confusion, which immediately became the most extreme mix of panic and horror Katsuki had ever seen.

Deku tried to say something, but all he got out was a strangled yelp. He reached out, as if for help, tripped over his feet, and toppled sideways.

Katsuki blasted forward faster than he could think.

Miss Midnight tried to intervene. "Bakugo, STOP! Cementoss!"

The concrete shifted, forming a barrier across the arena, but it was too slow. Katsuki cleared the obstacle and crashed to his knees on the other side. He lunged, and just managed to catch Deku's head before it hit the ground.

He was having a seizure.

With Izuku safely on the ground, Katsuki let go and staggered back. That cry, raw and tortured, was the scariest thing that Katsuki had ever heard. He whipped around, desperate. "Get Recovery Girl!"

Mirko was dead. Oh, she was technically still breathing, but she couldn't feel a thing. There was no saving her broken body. She could see her collapsed lung twitching behind charred ribs, which was a damn good indicator that her number was up. So was all the blood. She was pretty sure her legs were somewhere over by the next column. The left one, at least. The right one was a bit more… scattered. Not that they would have been any use, what with her broken spine.

Mirko gambled; winner take all.

She lost.

All For One stood over her, elated. "Incredible, dear girl, simply incredible. You, raw and unrefined, have grown far beyond my expectations. You've surpassed even my wildest dreams! Oh, how beautiful you've become!"

She would have told him to fuck himself if she could. She only gurgled up at him. You won, but I made you bleed, motherfucker. Laugh it up, 'cause you're going to get torn to fucking shreds by people stronger than me. With grim satisfaction she watched him pull Toga's dagger out of his skull. She'd buried it to the hilt in his right temple, just before he took her legs.

"That, I sincerely doubt. Many have tried over the years. Many that were far, far stronger than your mentor, or your lover."

Mirko imagined that, were she able to move, she would have exploded with rage. Her body was shutting down. Vision fading. She forced herself to sit up, for one final parting shot. "He WILL kill you." Hawks? Izuku? Did it matter?

All For One raised his hand, fingers blackened and pulsing with angry red lines. "I do welcome him to try." That ravenous grin sat firmly on his lips.

No. Fucking. Regrets. Mirko spit a fat gob of blood right into All For One's face.

He activated Rivet Stab, ripping into her chest, and splitting her skull open with jagged fingers. "So much work to do. So much to repair."

Mirko died in the dark.

End Part II

Author's Note

I've had Rumi's death planned from the very beginning, and it was always going to be All For One that did the deed.

A hundred and twenty thousand words of buildup, leading to this moment, and leading to the partial reveal of Nana Shimura's role.

What a wild ride.

Note:
I've gotten some comments/questions/complaints about Rumi dying, which is kind of exciting actually. I love getting reviews, they make me feel pretty good. I love getting criticism too, because that helps me become a better writer.

SO! There are a couple things about death, both irl and in story.

In real life, people can technically die and be resuscitated a few minutes later.
Death can be a figurative thing. The start or end of a journey, or of a transformation.
The chapter title is "The Second Death[...]" implying that she's died before chapter 22. Whether that is taken figuratively or literally is intentionally left up to y'all to decide.
Kurogiri, and all Nomu, are dead, (I'm not turning Rumi into a Nomu), so death doesn't mean much to All For One. Besides that, All For One doesn't strike me as the wasteful type, and during the whole tail end of this chapter he's praising Mirko's skill and raw talent.